School's Out Forever (The Afterblight Chronicles: The St Mark's Books)

by Scott K. Andrews

  “You can’t hand me over to this man, Bates,” he cried. “We both know I’ll be dead within the hour. And these boys won’t let it happen, will you boys?”

  Oh, what a misjudgement that was. Because the boys didn’t make a sound. They were too afraid of the raised guns of the officers, too cowed by the horrors that had overtaken their lives in the last year, too conditioned to fear Mac. They’d enjoyed a mad moment of rebellion but once they’d stopped applauding their own terror had crept in to fill the silence.

  Norton looked over at me desperately, seeking guidance. If I gave the nod he’d speak up.

  Should I have given the signal? I still wonder about that. If I had, if Norton had stepped forward and rallied the boys, maybe things would have been different. Maybe all the blood and death could have been prevented. But I was unsure. It seemed too risky. I shook my head, and Norton clenched his jaw and remained silent. In that moment of uncertainty and cowardice he and I condemned us to all that followed.

  Faced by Mac’s slow, menacing approach, and the silent acquiescence of the boys, Hammond began to appreciate the gravity of his situation.

  “You can’t do this, Bates. For God’s sake man, look at yourself, look at what you’re doing!” There was a desperate, pleading note in his voice now.

  “Mac’s orders are to expel you,” said Bates, “and that is what he’ll do, isn’t it Major?”

  “Yes sir!”

  Mac, approaching from behind Bates, bared his teeth at Hammond, and winked. Bates stepped forward, his pistol raised to cover Hammond and deter him from running. Hammond contemptuously batted the pistol aside. Bates brought it to bear again. Hammond batted it aside again. Bates raised the pistol to hit Hammond with it, but the old man grabbed Bates’ arm to counter the blow.

  You’ve seen the movies. You know what comes next. The two men grapple for possession of the weapon, they huddle in tight, almost embracing, as they strain and clutch and struggle for leverage. Then a shot – shocking, sudden, echoing off the buildings and trees, repeating again and again and fading away as the two men stand stock still, frozen, the horrified spectators waiting to see which one of them will topple.

  Hammond backed away from Bates, his face full of confusion and fear. Then he fell sideways into the snow, and twitched and shook and died.

  Bates stood there, the smoking gun in his hand. He stared at Hammond’s body and seemed frozen, rooted to the spot.

  Rowles broke ranks and ran towards the school, crying. Without a moment’s hesitation Mac drew his sidearm and fired into the air.

  “One more inch, Rowles, and I’ll have you up on a charge of desertion!” he yelled.

  Rowles turned back, his face streaked with tears and snot, utterly terrified. His lower lip trembled.

  “Back in line, boy, now!”

  Rowles shuffled back, wide-eyed, and rejoined the serried ranks of boys, all of whom mirrored his fear and uncertainty.

  “You are on parade. You do not leave until you are dismissed. Understand?”

  The boys stood in silence.

  “I said,” bellowed Mac, “do you understand?”

  A half-hearted “yes sir”.

  “I bloody well hope so.”

  Mac turned to his officers. Patel and Wolf-Barry were restraining Matron, who had attempted to run to Hammond when he had been shot.

  “Zayn, Pugh, take Hammond’s body to the San.” They did so.

  Bates was still standing there.

  Mac addressed the troops.

  “The Colonel is right. There’s no room here for charity, no food for freeloaders, no beds for fucking whingers. We stay tight, we stay hard, we stay alive. Hammond thought otherwise and look where it fucking got him.”

  “That’s Mr Hammond to you, MacKillick,” shouted Matron, straining against the boys who were holding her back. Mac turned and walked slowly towards her. He had still not holstered his gun. He leaned forward so there was only an inch at most between their faces.

  “Now you listen to me and you listen well, bitch,” he whispered. “I run this place now. My gaff, my rules. And if you don’t like that you can piss off. But while you stay here you do exactly as I say or so help me God I will fucking gut you. I own you, bitch, and don’t you fucking forget it.”

  He leered at her and then raised his free hand and ever so softly caressed her cheek.

  And for the first time ever I genuinely wanted to kill someone.

  Matron spat in his face. There was an audible intake of breath from the boys.

  Mac smiled.

  “Take her away boys,” he said. “Find somewhere safe and lock the cow up. I’m sure we can find a use for her.”

  “Sir?” Pugh, having a moment of conscience.

  “Yes Corporal?” The danger in Mac’s voice was unmistakeable.

  “Nothing sir.”

  “Good, then carry on.”

  The two boys marched Matron away towards the school.

  Bates still hadn’t moved.

  Mac walked over to Hammond’s statue and kicked it hard. It slowly toppled over and fell into the bloodstained snow. Another failed attempt at decency and compassion, white on red.

  CHAPTER SIX

  THE COURT MARTIAL of Mr Bates began the next morning.

  Most of the officers were present, including myself, in my wheelchair, sitting at Mac’s right hand. Only Green and Wylie were absent, running exercises with the boys. Mac, sporting a huge bruise on his left cheek which he made no reference to, took the chair. We were to be Bates’ judges and jury.

  Bates sat before us, hands bound. He was deep in shock and hadn’t said a word since the shooting the previous day.

  I don’t think I’ve ever felt as powerless as I did in that room. Officially I was now one of the three most powerful people in the school, but this was a pantomime of Mac’s devising and we all knew what was expected of us. Step out of line, challenge Mac in this context, and I had no doubt I’d share whatever fate he had in store for Bates. This was to be the culmination of Mac’s ascent to power and we had to rubber stamp it, no matter what. Our lives depended upon it.

  “Colonel Michael Bates, you are arraigned here today to answer the charge of murder.”

  Mac was even putting on a plummy voice, pretending to be a High Court judge. Actually, not ‘putting on’ at all; ‘reverting to’, more like.

  Bates mumbled something inaudible in response.

  “Speak up, Colonel,” said Mac.

  Bates looked up at Mac. The depth of despair in those eyes was like a physical blow.

  “I said sorry,” he muttered.

  Mac snorted. “I’m afraid sorry just isn’t going to do. You are accused of a criminal offence of the most heinous type and you must answer for it before the court.”

  “So sorry,” he whispered again, and his head slumped forward as his shoulders began to heave. He began to sob.

  Mac was unmoved.

  “Do I take it to understand that you are throwing yourself upon the mercy of this court, Colonel?”

  But the only sound that came from Bates was a deep, hoarse moan.

  “In which case we shall retire to consider our verdict.”

  As Mac rose Bates looked up and began to speak.

  “All I wanted,” he sobbed, “was to help.”

  “Well I think that...”

  “All I wanted,” Bates interrupted, “was to look after them. To make them safe, to protect and care for them, that’s all I ever wanted, even before. But it was always so hard. They never understood what I was doing, never understood that it was all for their own good. Never understood. Nobody ever understood.”

  He started to speak more loudly now, passionately pleading with us to understand his choices and failures.

  “Do you know what it’s like to try and help someone who doesn’t want to be helped? Do you? To try and persuade them that you know best? It’s impossible. But it was my job, my duty, I couldn’t just give up, could I? I had to make them see. I had to
keep them safe. ‘Arm ourselves’, I said. ‘The school will be safe’, I said. ‘Sanctuary’, I said. But they wouldn’t believe me. Wouldn’t do things my way. Had to challenge me, always had to challenge me. Undermine, countermand, mock and ignore. All I wanted, all I ever wanted, was to be a hero, their hero.”

  Mac started to giggle. A man was falling to pieces in front of him and the sick bastard actually thought it was funny.

  “And now I never will be, will I?” Bates looked up at Mac again, suddenly clear-eyed and focused. “Because you’re going to kill me, aren’t you, Mac?”

  Mac met his gaze, but said nothing.

  “Yeah, of course you are,” said Bates. “You’ve been building up to this from the moment you arrived. Just biding your time, waiting for me to make a mistake. Well, good for you. Good for you. Made it easy for you really, didn’t I? Got it wrong every step of the way and you just let me get deeper and deeper into the shit until it was time to make your move. And now you’ve got your lackeys and your weapons and your army. But what are you going to do with it all? What’s the point of all the power? Do you even have a point, or is it just for its own sake, just because you can? You don’t care for these boys, you don’t care for their wellbeing or safety. You just want to be in control of them. And now you are. My fault, again. My fault.”

  He took a deep breath and calmed the final sobs that had interspersed his little speech. He raised his bound hands and wiped his eyes and nose on his sleeve, sat upright and stared straight ahead, trying to find some final shreds of dignity.

  “Before you pass sentence I want to make a final request.” He turned his gaze to me. “I don’t know why you’re allying yourself with this bastard, Keegan, but I’ve been watching you and I think you’re better than this.” Oh shit, thanks. Blow my cover, why don’t you? “I want you to do something for me, if you can.”

  “What’s that then?” I tried to sound casual and unconcerned. Mustn’t let Mac know how much I was hating this.

  “I want you to find my sons and tell them what’s happened.”

  “What?” I couldn’t keep the surprise out of my voice. “They’re alive?”

  “Oh yes, they’re alive. What, you thought I’d buried them? No, they were both O-neg. But they weren’t mine. Carol and I adopted. Pure chance they had the same blood type. All I ever wanted... sorry. Anyway, find them. Apologise for me. They’re with their mother at a farm just north of Leeds. Ranmore Farm, it’s on the maps.”

  “So why did you come back here? What happened?” asked Mac, intrigued, in spite of himself.

  “They left me.” He gave a bitter laugh. “I was the luckiest man in the world, you see. Only child, so no brothers or sisters to lose. Both my parents already dead. My wife and kids all immune. My whole family, everyone I loved, survived The Cull. Luckiest man in the world. But then... they just left me. No reason left to pretend, she said. Not our real dad anyway, they said. And gone. All I ever wanted was to make them safe, be a hero to them, to my boys. But they hated me. All that love and now... just... nothing.”

  Suddenly Bates was transformed, suddenly he made sense. I felt desperately, achingly sorry for him.

  “Wow,” laughed Mac. “You’re an even bigger loser than I thought!”

  “Yes,” said Bates, thoroughly broken. “I suppose I am.”

  “Well, the sentence is death, obviously. But I need a bit of time to consider how, so we’ll just bung you back in a locked room for a bit while I work it out, yeah?”

  WHILE BATES LANGUISHED under lock and key and Mac worked out which form of painful death most took his fancy, the day proceeded as normal. Norton wheeled me back to the San where I was still sleeping, despite Matron’s incarceration.

  “She’s in one of the rooms upstairs,” Norton said. He’d been snooping around for me, trying to find out where she was being kept. “Mac’s old room, actually. The door’s not locked as far as I can tell, but he’s got Wolf-Barry on guard outside.”

  “Has she... has anything...” I couldn’t quite bring myself to put my fears into words.

  “I only found out where she was this morning, and as far as I know no-one’s been in to see her since. But I don’t know about last night, Lee.”

  I didn’t want to think about what Mac might have done to her. I recalled the mysterious bruise on Mac’s cheek.

  Norton handed me the two Brownings that he’d hidden for me and I pocketed them both.

  “Right, we need to get Wolf-Barry away from that door. I need to get in there.”

  “I might have an idea how we can do that,” said Norton. “You might even call it a plot. But how are you going to manage? You can barely walk.”

  I lifted my good leg off the wheelchair rest and placed it on the floor, levering myself upright. I gingerly put my bad leg down and allowed it to take the tiniest fraction of my weight. Not so bad. A bit more. Bearable. I tried a step and it was like someone had shoved a hot metal bar straight through my calf. I grunted in pain and clenched my jaw. But I could do it. I had to.

  Norton looked at me doubtfully.

  “Piece of cake,” I lied.

  WITH THE ARRIVAL of winter the school had become bitterly cold, and fires were kept burning in most grates throughout the day. Norton snuck into the dorm along the corridor from where Matron was being kept and nudged one of the logs out of the grate and onto the floor where it began to smoulder on the old waxed floorboard. The dorm door was open so we were counting on Wolf-Barry smelling the fire and raising the alarm before it really took hold. Last thing we wanted was to burn the school down.

  Norton wafted the fumes towards the door then nipped out the dorm’s back door and down the fire escape. It didn’t take long for Wolf-Barry to cotton on, and he ran off shouting. I had managed to hop my way up the back stairs and as soon as he was out of sight I pushed open the stairwell door and hopped to Matron’s room. I tried to ignore the blood that was beginning to trickle down my wounded leg, and the spots that were appearing at the edge of my vision.

  I pushed the door – not locked, thank Christ – and lurched into the room. It was only my unsteady footing that saved me from receiving a floorboard to the face.

  “Hey, hey, it’s me, Lee,” I whispered urgently.

  Matron was stood just inside the door holding her improvised weapon. Her face was one big bruise. One eye was swollen shut, her lips were blue and bulbous. There was blood underneath her nose, which bulged where I think it had been broken. Her clothes were torn, too. She was breathing hard and her teeth were bared and bloody.

  “What kept you, Lee? Come to take your turn?”

  No time to dwell on what that implies. Focus. Concentrate. Things to do.

  “Matron, we need to get you out of here now.”

  “And why should I trust you? They told me, you’re his loyal second-in-command now!” She was fighting back tears, her words coming out in a furious mix of anger and pain.

  There was no time to explain myself. The corridor would be swarming in seconds. I pulled one of the handguns from my pocket and held it out to her.

  “Take it.”

  She looked down at it, confused.

  “Take it!”

  She dropped the floorboard, grabbed the gun and then looked up at me. I couldn’t read the expression on her wrecked face.

  “Now come on!” I grabbed her hand and turned, gently pushing the door open as I did so. But we’d lingered too long. There was already a crowd of boys arguing over which colour of fire extinguisher they should use. Norton was nearest the door, bathed in a dim orange light, trying to take control but also keeping an eye out for our escape. Not only was he providing a distraction for us, he wanted to be closest to the danger, didn’t want anyone else getting burnt because of his actions. My admiration for him grew hugely.

  I pulled Matron behind me and dashed for the stairwell. We feel through the door and it closed behind us. We’d made it unseen.

  It was only when I stopped inside the door that I realise
d I had run along the landing. Adrenaline is a great painkiller, but I knew I’d pay for that later. I could hear footsteps coming up the stairs below us; someone taking the back route to the fire. Matron and I flew down the flight of stairs and flung ourselves through the door of the next floor down, just in time to avoid being seen.

  My leg buckled underneath me, and Matron helped me along the corridor to the San, which was almost directly beneath the burning dormitory. Smoke was beginning to seep through the ceiling from above.

  “We don’t have much time,” I said. “Someone will be coming to get me to safety soon. They can’t find you here and they mustn’t suspect that I can walk yet. Help me into bed.” Matron did so, and her hands came away from my leg covered in blood. She gasped.

  “Lee, you must let me see to this, you could be crippled.”

  “No time. Now take the gun and go. Run. Find somewhere and hole up. This school isn’t safe for you any more and I can’t deal with Mac if he has you hostage. So go, please.”

  She hefted the Browning. Then she popped out the clip, checked it was loaded, slammed it home, cocked the gun, chambered a round and slipped off the safety catch. She knew exactly what she was doing. How the hell was a boarding school matron so familiar with a firearm?

  “I’m not going anywhere.” She was breathing hard and even through the bruises there was no mistaking the look of fury and determination on her face.

  “And what are you going to do?” I demanded. “Shoot them all? You don’t stand a chance. There are seven of them, not to mention Mac, and after what they’ve done do you think they’ll hesitate to shoot you? This school needs you – I need you – to be safe, so that when we finally get rid of that fucker you’re there to help us pick up the pieces.”

  Her eyes burned with hatred, but I could see she was beginning to hesitate. I pressed my advantage.

  “If you go after him now you’ll be dead within the hour. Or worse – locked up again. Please, just run.”

  She hesitated, her hand upon my arm. If I’d been in her shoes I don’t know if I’d have been able to beat down the desire for vengeance, but somehow I got through to her. I looked up at her ruined face and saw tears of frustration welling out of her swollen eyes.